


Don't Open Before Xmas

by HauntingMelody



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Cute, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Drunk Will, Fun, Fun Gifts, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is Mad, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal is confused, Hannibal isn't Mad Anymore, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Possessive Hannibal, Short & Sweet, Sweet, Will Loves Hannibal, Will Messes with Hannibal, silly gifts, will is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 21:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntingMelody/pseuds/HauntingMelody
Summary: Hannibal opens a present early, and it helps open his eyes as well. A visit to Will is necessary.





	Don't Open Before Xmas

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Hannibal or the book mentioned.

The night had been a long one, the party genuine fun.

He’d kept his mask in place as he met every guest and returned every holiday greeting sent his way.

His Christmas party had gone well with no incidents or social missteps by any of the guests.

To say that Hannibal was tired would be an understatement, but he had really enjoyed himself.

The last of his meat stock was gone with the dinner party he’d thrown and he planned to restock shortly after the holiday season. People would be flavored with brilliant Christmas meals and there would be so much confusion with everyone trying to get home at once, it would be a while before anyone would realize his victims were gone.

Hannibal himself hadn’t taken any parts of his feast, instead helping to serve his guests as they enjoyed themselves with their American traditions and holiday cheer. Hannibal had waited until after everyone had gone to create his own meal, scattering straw on the table before draping it in a crisp white table cloth. He’d set a place for his mother, his father, and his dear Mischa before setting his own spot at the head of the table. His meal was a hearty one, completely devoid of any meat but the fish that Will had brought him. Hannibal had stood there, looking rather astonished at the blushing profiler. Will had fidgeted in his place, holding the large fish up for Hannibal, wrapped neatly and obviously freshly caught. The killer had wondered if Will understood what the gesture meant to him. His dear mongoose making more of an effort to respect Hannibal’s traditions than anyone he’d invited to his party.

If Hannibal were less of a monster, he would have recognized the warmth in his chest for what it was.

The doctor’s Christmas feast had been a short one, his straw stock plucked and season’s greetings spoken to an all too empty room. He’d found it hard to properly enjoy his meal after taking in the absences at the table and had rushed through his last three dishes. He’d merely nibbled on his wafer, unpleasantness curling in his stomach as the ghost of his past came back to haunt him.

To take his mind off it, Hannibal had turned then to the gifts he’d received that night. Many of his guests had left him with a token of their appreciation, simple trinkets and expensive toys he’d never use, no doubt. Will had also left him with something though, and the thought of the present, sitting on his nightstand so innocently, was beginning to bother him.

Will never did anything without thinking it over, without making sure it was perfect. Hannibal had no doubt that meticulousness extended to gifts as well, and it was killing him not knowing what his pet project had gotten him.

The wrapping had been simple, brown paper with simple Christmas trees decorating it in muted tones, a haphazard wrapping job, more tape than paper in some places, and obvious chew marks on the paper where the dogs had fought him for it. All together and without the dog slobber, it was quite a charming attempt. It seemed Will’s fine hand with his fishing gear didn’t extend to wrapping gifts. Hannibal smiled as he remembered Will’s excessive apologizing as he’d made his way toward Hannibal’s door, declining the invitation to stay. Will had been cute, as flustered as he was, but the look he’d given Hannibal right before slipping out the door? The gleam in his eye? Hannibal still didn’t know what to think.

Did it have to do with the present?

Again, Hannibal’s thoughts turned to the brown package, gears turning as he tried to work out what it could be. A case of some sort? Perhaps some fly gear so Hannibal could join Will? It was certainly large enough to hold a decent amount of gear, but the killer doubted Will believed him willing to wade into a river as was required. A sketch pad? It was plausible, the profiler knew how much Hannibal enjoyed drawing, having witnessed him mid picture many times before. Will would also have realized how expensive the paper was that he used though, and no doubt didn’t currently have the money to buy simple paper at such a price. That brought Hannibal to his last option the size of the package.

A book.

Picking it up, the killer found himself to be correct. The shape of the item perfectly matching the grooves and contours of a novel. A thick one too. Pianist’s fingers itched to tear open the paper and see whose words Will had gifted him with.

His own gift to Will had been painstakingly chosen. A check worth enough for one of his dog’s next vet visits, meat for his whole made dog food from Hannibal’s very own stores, and a bottle of whiskey that Hannibal had brewed himself, the first product of a reserve especially for Will. His profiler was nothing if not practical, and Hannibal knew he would appreciate his gifts.

That only lead him back to Will’s single, thoughtful gift. The book.

He wanted to open it so badly, fingers twitching toward the parcel as he tried to keep himself in check. Surely Will wouldn’t know if he opened it early, right? There was no harm in it.

Hannibal watched a piece of tape holding the paper to one end give out, the paper unfolding to show a russet red colored cover. Well, that did it.

Stepping forward, Hannibal lifted the package, making quick work of the wrapping and revealing the rest of the book cover to maroon eyes. Hannibal paused as he read the title, brain not processing as he read it again and again. He was vaguely aware of the wrapping paper hitting the floor as he re-read the title for the sixth time.

_ It’s not okay to be a Cannibal _

Hannibal blinked hard, something turning solid in his chest as he thought back to the gleam that had been in Will’s eye as he left. The killer carefully set the book on his nightstand before withdrawing a long and very sharp knife from within its drawer. He turned cautiously, head tilted as he listened, his deep breaths a quite stir of air in the silent house. There was no one here, the police hadn’t arrived yet, and strangely enough he didn’t even hear them coming.

His hand tightened on the knife it held, knuckles turning white as his eyes narrowed.

How had Will known? How had he figured it out when Hannibal had worked so hard to keep everyone from noticing, _especially_ Will. What had given him away?

He had to find out.

The drive was a long one, but Hannibal was determined to straighten this out before he was arrested. If anyone was going to kill his precious Will, it would be him. His rage made time pass quickly, Hannibal parking some ways off from Will’s house and trekking through the snow with a deadly determination. He realized how little it mattered though when he heard barking coming from inside. The dogs would hear him, of course they’d hear him. Hannibal wasn’t thinking right in his rage.

He forced his way into the house then. Well, not really. The front door was unlocked. What he really forced himself past was the pack of dogs all vying for his attention. He hadn’t brought treats this time, but he doubted they knew that. He was just starting to get angry with the dogs when a sharp whistle called them all away, each canine finding a bed to curl up in and ducking its head as if shamed. Tense maroon eyes shot up to meet unreadable stormy blue. Hannibal stilled.

“I take it you saw the book.” Will stated simply. Hannibal stayed where he was, shoulders squared, jaw set, eyes fierce, and knife held tightly in his hand. Will was curled up against the side of his bed, sitting on the floor and leaning on its frame, one hand idly scratching the dog Hannibal knew to be Winston behind the ears. The bottle of home brewed Whiskey sat next to Will’s leg, the profiler’s hand hanging off his leg, hand hovering above the bottle. Will shook his head.

“Naughty, naughty. Couldn’t even wait till Christmas day to open your present?” Will chided, smile playing at the corner of his lips. Hannibal’s tightened into a line.

“Calling me out on it when you’ve done the same.” He said smoothly, nodding his head briskly towards the bottle. There was a sizable amount missing. Will glanced down and to the side slowly, sluggishly, eyes resting on the Whiskey for a moment before that small smile curved relaxed features.

“Suppose so.” He agreed, relaxed stormy blue moving back to meet Hannibal’s own steady gaze.

There was silence between the two of them for a moment, just the quiet breathing of all the dogs in the room. Then Will broke it.

“Oh lord.” He laughed, the joyous sound ringing from him in great peals that gave Hannibal pause. “Holy shit,” Will wheezed. “I wish I couldda seen yer face!” He slurred. Hannibal found himself at a loss for words.

Thin brows drew together in confusion as Hannibal took in Will’s laughing form. Many of the dogs surrounding them had perked up, ears pointed towards him in interest as well. Will though, the man just kept on laughing, tears coming from his eyes as he tried in vain to get his breathing under control.

Hannibal was frozen where he stood.

“You…” He started, tilting his head curiously as Will only laughed harder when he started speaking and Hannibal started again. “You mean you aren’t upset?” He asked, at a loss for what else to ask.

“Oh! _Oh_.” Will started, struggling to get his breathing under control as he wiped away tears. “I was _furious_ at first.” He explained, smile still curving full lips into an expression that just left Hannibal lost. “You were tricking me, you _ass_. Of course, I was mad! But…. _But._ Then I thought about why. I thought about who you are and your design.” Will gave him a warm look, blue eyes soft as they glanced at him, Hannibal’s dear mongoose seeming lost for a moment before pulling himself back. “I thought about it and then I understood.”

Hannibal simply stared at Will, mask completely lost and with no idea what expression he wore now. He watched Will fall into another fit of giggles just looking at him. This was…. Unexpected.

“You understood…” He started slowly, posture still refusing to relax as his brain worked double time to make sense of the situation. Will nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, I understand.” He gave Hannibal a wide smile. The killer blinked.

“You aren’t going to turn me in?” He encouraged slowly. Will shook his head so hard he took a moment to wait for the world to right itself before speaking, hand holding his head as he waited.

“Turn you in. I would never!” Will sounded offended, and Hannibal had no idea why. “I _get_ you! I understand why you do it and I could never turn you in anyway because I- uh, just, I can’t. Ok?” He stuttered the last bit, cheeks coloring deeper than what the alcohol would account for. Hannibal filed that reaction away for later. The doctor found himself starting to relax.

“You can’t.” He stated again, watching Will shake his head. He still wasn’t sure what to think. The profiler sighed, rolling his eyes before holding his head again as the world spun.

“Look.” He stated, mirth falling from his tone but for a pinch. “If you still don’t believe me, then I guess you get to open your second present.” Hannibal was even more confused than before now.

“My second present?”

“Your second present.” Will confirmed.

“And what might that be?”

“Me.” Will stated simply, pulling a bow out of his pocket and sticking it on top of his head. Hannibal just stared at him and Will sighed. “You get to do whatever you want to me for one night. I won’t fight, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I am yours for this entire night.” He explained. Hannibal’s heart beat hard suddenly.

“You really mean it.” Hannibal stated, not wanting to make it a question out of fear he’d be denied. All he had ever wanted was Will, from the moment he’d shown promise, from the moment he’d met him. Will.

The profiler smiled softly and gave a gentle bob of his head in confirmation. The red ribbon glimmered in the fire light and Hannibal smiled, placing the knife on a nearby table with a soft click.

“Alright then.” Will smiled.

“Alright then.” Hannibal repeated, and returned the soft smile, staring deep into those stormy blue eyes. His own maroon changed then, devious joy glinting in their depths as Will turned suddenly suspicious. “First things first my dear Will, we must rid you of that dreadful beard.” The profiler tilted his head back with a groan.

“But Hanniballll, I look like a child without it!” Will whined, causing a small smile to curve the killer’s lips.

“Ah, ah, ahh.” Hannibal tutted, eyes glimmering. “No buts, you said so yourself.” The pout Will produced then made the doctor pause as he moved towards his pet. Will didn’t notice it though.

“Fine, fine. A promise is a promise.” He grumbled, struggling to get up for a moment before strong arms gripped him and lifted him to his feet. Will blushed, leaning on Hannibal for balance as his head spun. “Not so fast.” He mumbled, eyes downcast with his embarrassment. Hannibal found himself smiling once again and started helping Will towards the bathroom.

“Please tell me you have something other than that dreadful aftershave with the ship on the bottle.” Hannibal complained as he seated Will on the closed toilet seat and started searching drawers. He paused to give his grinning companion a look before continuing.

“Yeah, yeah. Top shelf in the cabinet, on the left.” He finally admitted, nodding to the doors above the toilet. “I wore the other stuff just because I knew it annoyed you.” He blushed when Hannibal leaned by him to open them, Hannibal not letting on that he noticed. They were about half way through Will’s shave when Hannibal brought up his gift.

“So where did you find that dreadful book?” He gave Will a pointed look, pulling back with the straight razor as the profiler laughed brightly.

“eBay.” He stated with a devilish grin. Hannibal simply shook his head and continued.

They had finished when Hannibal finally decided to ask, Will was admiring himself in a mirror, seemingly amused by his cleanly shaven face now that Hannibal had finally let him look. The doctor had to admit, Will did look ravishing when shaven. The absence of facial hair taking years off his appearance.

“What gave me away?” Hannibal asked, giving voice to the question that had bothered him the most. He stood tense as he waited for a response.

A snort was not what he was expecting.

“Hannibal, your puns are horrible.” Will chuckled. The killer stayed frozen for a second before his expression dissolved into a smile.

“I take offense to that dear Will.”

His Will tilted his head back, laughing.

Hannibal smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Lord I needed to write something silly. I'm pretty sure my last three posts were all serious. This was fun and silly. I hope you all had as much fun reading it as I did writing. I got the idea from a post on Pinterest. The book is real, it's full title is _It’s not okay to be a Cannibal: How to Keep Addiction from Eating Your Family Alive_ by Andrew Wainwright and Robert Poznanovich. The traditions are as real as I could find in my research for Lithuanian Christmas traditions, forgive me if I missed something.  
>  I seriously hoped you all enjoyed this. Leave comments and kudos to let me know how I'm doing, you guys are the only ones who get to read what I write.  
> Have a great time of day  
> Raven~


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